Chapter 17 Grace Nash

Look At Us Now

The Morning After the Wedding

I feel guilty. I feel like we need to confess what happened last night even though neither of us knows exactly how it happened. All I know is that I got married in a dress meant for somebody else, somebody who's getting married in a few days, somebody who is expecting to wear a dress that's brand new, not one worn by another bride.

And if we show them the pictures, Grayson will see the dress before the wedding, which, as we all know, is bad luck.

I'm torn, but the chanting starts up again as I'm pouring cream into my coffee.

"Prove it, prove it, prove it." It's the banging on the table that convinces me. My pounding head can't take it, and there's only one way to get them to stop.

I sigh as I glance over at Spencer. His eyes meet mine, and he looks as annoyed as I feel.

"Show them," I say softly. They're chanting too loudly to hear me say that to him.

He raises a brow. "Are you sure?"

"I feel like it'll be worse if we hide it. "

"Yeah. You're probably right." He sighs, and he pulls out his phone. He holds up a hand to get them to pipe down before he shows them the photo. "We need to tell you something before you see these photos."

Grayson narrows his eyes at his brother. "Are you both naked? Because that would be the icing on this shit cake for you, broski."

He glances at his brother. "You know, I sort of wish we'd have gotten married naked because it would save us from this…awkward conversation."

"Awkward?" Ava asks.

Spencer pulls open the photo.

I snag my bottom lip between my teeth. "Can I just, um…remind you that we were wasted and high on Benadryl and neither of us can remember exactly how this happened?"

Ava's arched brows knit together, and then Spencer slides the phone over to the two of them.

Ava recognizes it first with a shocked gasp.

"Aw, look at you two lovebirds," Grayson says. Of course he doesn't recognize his future wife's wedding dress. He's never seen it.

Ava's eyes are wide when they move up to mine. "Is that—" she begins.

She freezes when I nod.

"I'm so, so sorry," I whisper.

"What?" Grayson asks. "What's going on?"

"And is he—" Ava begins again, and I close my eyes and nod when she looks over at me.

"I don't know what to say," I begin.

"What is it?" Grayson asks, looking incredibly confused.

"They wore our stuff," Ava says flatly.

"They wore our…" Grayson trails off as he looks at the photo again. "Ohhhhh," he says, exaggerating the sound of the word. "Oh, fuck." He looks up at his brother. "Are you serious, dude?"

"I'm sorry," Spencer says quietly. "We didn't mean— "

"We gave you that shit to keep safe! We trusted you!" Grayson roars at his brother, and it's really not so funny right now.

"It is safe," Spencer protests a little weakly. "It's up in the closet, and nobody will ever know."

"I can't wear that dress!" Ava wails. "Grayson's seen it now!"

"I will pay to replace it with any dress you want," Spencer says calmly. "We'll fix this. We will make this right."

"How? That was the dress !" Ava says, wiping a tear away from her cheek. "The wedding is in three days !"

Oh, God. I feel horrible.

The server chooses that moment to deliver our food, and this certainly isn't the impression I wanted to make with my in-laws.

"I can't eat," Ava says, pushing her plate away. "I can't sit here. Grayson, let's go."

Grayson gives his brother a look of disgust, and then the two of them slide out of the booth without looking at me.

Spencer leans his elbow on the table and rubs his forehead then leans on his palm. "Fuck," he mutters.

Well, that went worse than I expected.

He looks at the biscuits and gravy on his plate and trades it for Grayson's plate across the table. When I give him a look that plainly says what the hell are you doing , he says, "I didn't look at what the special was when I ordered it. I wore his tux…might as well eat his breakfast, too."

I reach for his biscuits and gravy and eat one along with everything on my own plate.

Good thing we got married last night. That dress wouldn't fit me any longer after this breakfast.

We head upstairs, both of us feeling like shit and not really sure what to do to make this right.

I lay down and close my eyes, but I can't sleep—especially not with the man pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed. "What are you doing?" I ask.

"Pacing," he says.

"Well…can you stop?"

He shoots me a glare .

"Don't be mad at me ," I say.

"Why not? This was all your idea!" he yells.

"My idea was to protect the vineyard. You know Amelia. She'd sell the damn place off for parts, and I wanted to keep it in the family, and this was my best shot at doing that. I never thought we'd get blackout drunk, and I wouldn't even remember my own goddamn wedding."

"Neither did I," he mutters.

"Look, Spencer, we're in this together. Let's not turn on each other. Let's figure out how to fix this."

"You're right," he says. He sits on the edge of the bed. "So…how?"

I try to think it through, but my brain is still foggy. "I have no idea." A shower might help clear my mind, but I don't have any clothes with me.

Obviously.

I got married in someone else's dress, not that I brought a wedding dress along with me.

On that note, I pick up the phone on the nightstand and call guest services to have my suitcase sent up.

"I'm going to shower," he announces as he stands and steals my idea before I get a chance to.

I lean back against the headboard as I wait for my bag, and it arrives shortly after.

I grab my phone and pull up a browser.

How to make it up to someone when you wore her wedding dress.

That particular search doesn't quite yield the results I'm looking for.

I don't know what will ever yield the results I'm looking for, but this is a real problem.

I got him to marry me, I guess. But this isn't really what I was picturing when I came up with this plan.

Guilt racks me, and I know we have to figure out some way to make this right. I can't have Spencer's brother mad at him, and his bride mad at me, and a division splitting the family apart. What sort of way is that to start a marriage ?

And I'm not referring to Grayson and Ava, though starting a marriage based on a contract rather than based on love isn't really rooted in reality either.

Not that we have a contract.

Spencer's phone starts to ring, and I glance at the screen.

It's his mother calling.

Oh, God . Does she know?

I hear the shower turn off, and I yell from where I am. "Spencer, your mom is calling!"

He rushes out with a towel tied around his waist, and water beads run down his chest.

Dear. Lord.

That guy right there? That's my husband .

For as much as this morning has brought pain—physically, given my hangover, as well as emotionally, given how we betrayed his brother's trust—I'm also met with the realization that I'm married to Spencer Nash .

And that's one hell of an interesting realization. I'm a wife. I have a husband. Thirty seconds ago—or last night, at any rate—I wasn't even dating anybody.

Look at us now.

I watch his retreating back as he walks into the bathroom again, this time with his phone. "Hey, Mom." He leaves the door open, and I can hear his end of the conversation. "He told you already? Jesus Christ. Give a guy a second to figure things out." A pause as his mother most likely yells at him for what we've done, and my chest feels like a heavy weight is set on top of it.

We'll figure this out…right?